


Street Light

by businessboyjared



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/businessboyjared/pseuds/businessboyjared
Summary: Jared and Richard swap stories about weird things they were told as kids.





	Street Light

**Author's Note:**

> this is soooo self-indulgent and corny wow!!
> 
> written for sweet functional husbands week (which is every week in my heart & soul honestly)

“What are some other things your parents told you as a kid?” Richard asks, lying on his back with Jared beside him. They barely had enough energy to change into their pajamas, let alone climb into Richard’s dumb loft, so they threw pillows and blankets on the floor and called it a night. Richard clears his throat, then adds, “I mean. Biological or… otherwise.”

He could tell Jared was close to sleep. He felt bad for interrupting his slow, deep breaths but Richard can never just fall asleep like a normal person, and he’d been staring at the ceiling for at least half an hour before finally gathering the courage to ask. It was a question that had been on his mind since earlier that afternoon.

The sky had been a constant, hazy gray. Nothing out of the ordinary. Richard and Jared were taking their lunch break out by the pool, as Dinesh and Gilfoyle had been at each other’s throats all day and Richard felt like he was going to throw up if he had to hear another word of it. Richard rolled his pant legs up and dipped his feet in the pool. Gnawed at his bottom lip as he stared blankly into the water. He remembers thinking about how oddly the clouds above were reflected in the water, as if they were just underneath the surface and Richard was stirring them up with his toes. 

While Jared sat in one of the lounge chairs nibbling at his PB&J, thunder rumbled threateningly in the distance. They both tilted their heads up, as if to find the source of the noise. It grumbled on for a few seconds and then faded away, and Richard went back to stirring the clouds.

“My father used to tell me that was just the sound of god bowling in heaven,” Jared mused. Richard squinted at him, thinking that maybe he wasn’t supposed to hear that. Jared just met his eyes and smiled softly. “And if there was lightning, that’s when he got a strike. It’s odd, but kind of humorous, right?”

Richard huffed out a laugh, nodded a little too forcefully. “Yeah. That is funny,” He agreed.

He heard the glass door slide open behind him, and turned to see Erlich standing there with his bong and lighter in hand. Jared immediately offered his seat, brushing away the bread crumbs left over from his sandwich.

“I think my lunch break is about over anyway. Richard, I’ll be inside if you need anything.”

It wasn’t often that Jared would disclose any sort of personal information, and if he did, Richard usually felt a bit shell-shocked afterward. But this time was different. It was normal. And Richard liked knowing that while Jared’s childhood wasn’t always the best, there were at least a few good parts rattling around. So he spent the rest of the day unable to focus, thinking about what other kinds of silly, endearing things a much younger and smaller Jared would believe in with his whole heart.

Richard turns on his side to see Jared with his head propped up on one elbow. The street light outside paints orange lines over his face through the slats in the blinds. 

“What do you mean?” Jared asks him, his voice low and fuzzy with sleep.

“The thunder thing. What you said earlier today… about god and how that was just him bowling. Like, is there anything else?” He scratches nervously at the edge of the blanket, tucks it a little tighter under his chin. “Any other stories from when you were a kid?”

Jared frowns a bit. Richard wants to poke the lines that form between his eyebrows.

“There was one family I lived with,” He drapes an arm over Richard to rub his back in slow, gentle strokes. “I’m not sure how old I was. They told me my tongue would turn purple and fall off if I ever told a lie. And that if I tried to lock my bedroom door, it would burn my hand.” He chuckles a bit, almost fondly. Richard just stares up at him.

Jared stops laughing almost immediately, the silence throwing him off. “That’s not what you wanted to hear, is it.” He presses his lips together in a firm line. “I’m sorry, Richard.”

Richard reaches a hand up to cup his face. “No, I – it’s okay. I’m glad you told me.”

It’s quiet, except for the hum of the street light outside. Jared shifts his body, tucks himself further into the blankets so they’re face-to-face. If Richard presses his cheek hard enough into his pillow, the dark room becomes nothing but stars and swirly bits and Jared, hazy orange next to him. So he does just that, focuses on Jared’s face as the rest of the room fades out and a vague feeling of warmth washes over him. When he opens his mouth to speak, it feels like someone else is talking for him.

“When I was a kid, my mom told me that eating all my carrots at dinnertime would give me night vision. So I ate all my carrots, and that night,” A grin pulls at his face. “I stayed up and tried to walk around the house. To test out my new night vision, obviously.”

“Right, of course.” Jared giggles.

“Turns out I didn’t have any, because I walked right into a bookshelf and broke my fucking toe.” Richard shoves his face into his elbow to stifle his laughter. He watches Jared throw his head back and laugh, loudly at first, then with a hand clapped over his mouth when he remembers they’re not alone in the house.

Their laughter subsides after a bit and Jared’s face lights up. “I’ve got one.”

“Yeah?”

“Right after my mother passed, when I was first placed into foster care, I was living with an elderly woman. Her name was Ginger.” Jared pauses. Traces a finger over Richard’s face; his nose, his ears. Richard feels his skin heat up under the attention and snakes his hand out from under the covers to hold Jared’s.

“You know how sometimes, a street light will just turn off on its own? Just all of a sudden?” Jared asks. “Ginger always told me that when I see one go out, it was my mother saying hello, or good night, and that she loves me. I think about that every day.”

Richard grips Jared’s hand tighter. “Does it happen often?” He asks around a yawn.

“Not often, no. But I’ve found it usually happens when I least expect it.” He shrugs. “Like most things in life, I suppose.”

Richard smiles as his eyes slide out of focus and slip shut.

Jared stares at him for a bit, the dull orange glare over Richard’s shoulder casting an odd glow about him. He flicks his eyes directly to the street light outside as it blinks out, and he’s enveloped in darkness so comforting that he falls asleep instantly.


End file.
